Three Point Fourteen
by O f f beat
Summary: I hate green. Green beans. Green grass. The green soap she was using in her shower that faintly reminded me of mint. [IchigoRukia Oneshot]


**Note:** An old piece I found collecting dust in my hard drive.

**-Three Point Fourteen- **

She was pointing to something on her plate. "It's pie."

"I _know_ that."

She gave me an incredulous look that clearly said: _Are you sure about that?_ It was in a clear, pure emotion that contradicted the fact that it was _her_, and not _me_, who was ignorant of modern necessities.

Seriously, who listens to their CD player while taking a bath anyway? Let me tell you.

_She_ does.

How do I know this, you ask? _No_, I wasn't being a Peeping Tom that morning and _watching_ her, you single-minded, over imaginative freak! That would have been like signing up for an atomic war with only a pair of five year old chopsticks!

_Devastating_, I tell you!

Why? Because she has a tendency of throwing the first thing her hand lands on at any intruder that has offended and/or ticked her off in any possible way.

That explains the bruise on my chin? Maybe. I'm not telling you. Chad was wondering too, so I told him that I slipped and hit my face against the corner of a desk. (I honestly couldn't have told him that she had thrown her shampoo bottle at me when I accidentally barged into the bathroom while she taking a bath. _Hey_, my pride was at stake!) Safe to say, he made sure that there wasn't anything pointy around me to fall on from then on.

Not to say I'm complaining with him caring and all, you know. It just got a _tad_ bit unnerving once he started carrying around those big fluffy pillows he stole off the crafts department (despite the dork Ishida's _weak_ and _ineffective_ protests). Yeah, _those_ kind. The ones with the enormous prints of pink and purple bunnies all smiling or winking at you.

Jesus, the thought of them just makes me shudder.

Rukia absolutely _loved_ them though. Simply _adored_ them with an unhealthy passion and demanded them with such vigor that Chad was forced to get the frog designed cushions after giving the rabbit decorated ones to her.

And that sounds all dandy and cool to some extent, but let me tell you something. The frogs were just as bad as (if not _worse_ than) those damned bunnies. What, you think with all that bright lime color that it wouldn't poke at my masculinity as much?

I hate green. Green beans. Green grass. The green soap she was using in her shower that faintly reminded me of mint.

This explains why everything in my closet now smells like a cross between chocolate and a handful of those pine hinted cardboards you hang in your car and can't help but watch bob around instead of paying attention to the road like you _should _be.

Either way, the moral of this monologue is that I need to teach her how to use the lock system on doors properly to further counter such an event from ever happening in the future _again_.

She was staring at me. "What?"

And only because I was staring at her like a guppy who at just been fished out of the water, gasping for air.

Talking to you is giving me severe blows to my ego.

Instantly I looked down. Instantly I regretted even _moving_ my eyes lower because my mouth suddenly felt very parched and dry. It was if I had, in a state of delirium, accidentally chugged down a bottle of sand. All of this because she had taken another shower right after school (What's with her abrupt need to be so squeaky clean all of a sudden?) and borrowed one of my T-shirts.

That, to minimally put it, clung to her chest right above her—

Never mind.

"Do you want some?"

I tried not to choke. Or blink. Or give any hint that I was caught off guard that moment by such a..._blunt_ question. I managed a curt "no" without tying up my tongue somehow.

"Are you sure?"

_Damn _her for being so persistent.

"I'm sure." Not.

She shrugged before plopping the rest of her homemade attempt at pie neatly onto a plate while I, staring idly at everything _but_ her, tried to concentrate on my math homework. "More for Renji then."

My pencil scraped against the paper and made a very deep line on the table. Crap. Yuzu was going to kill me.

**-End- **

Fluff is good for the soul.


End file.
